


Twin Marks, Twin Souls

by historical_ramblings



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-10-24 03:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10733067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/historical_ramblings/pseuds/historical_ramblings
Summary: a benwash soulmate au.when ben is shot and george comes to visit him, he discovers they have more in common than their cause.and just how do robert rogers and benedict arnold fit into it?





	1. Something Blue

**Author's Note:**

> y'all fuckers have wanted a soulmate au for these two for a long time.
> 
> well. ask and ye shall receive.
> 
> hope i did it justice.

Pain. 

Raw, searing, burning. 

The smell of gunpowder.

Shot? 

Shot. 

Horse? Gone. Bolted.

Move. Find cover. 

Tree roots. Perfect. Now breathe. Think. 

Close to camp. Patrols probably heard shots. Help soon.

Protect the letters. Protect the letters. 

Letters must reach Washington. Vital.

Stay alive. Protect the letters.

 

A voice in the darkness. Shouting. Taunting. Ignore it.

“You out there, boy? It’s only a matter of time before I find you.”

 

Robert Rogers? In Pennsylvania?

Breathe. Ignore it. Ignore the pain.

Figure out details later.

Stay hidden until...Hoofbeats!

Loud swearing. A new set of hoofbeats, leaving.

Retreating from the patrol. The patrol’s horses getting closer and closer.

 

A new voice. Concern.

“Major? Major Tallmadge?! Stay with me, Major, we’ll get you to a doctor!”

 

Quiet, empty, blackness.

 

* * *

 

 

“Your Excellency,” panted Hamilton, clearly having just run from somewhere, “A patrol just found Major Tallmadge. He’s been shot, sir.”

 

George froze. 

“Shot? Where is he now?”

 

“He’s been taken to the hospital tent. The doctors were still working when I left.”

 

“Was he...was the Major awake?” George asked, grabbing his hat and cloak.

“Not when I left, sir.” Hamilton said, uncharacteristically quiet. “The doctors...they seemed unsure if he would...if…”

 

“Major Tallmadge is a strong young man, Colonel. I have faith that he’ll pull through.”

 

“Of course, sir” Said Hamilton, clearly not wishing to dwell on the subject. 

 

“I shall visit the Major. I trust you can handle anything that should spring up in my absence?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Said Hamilton, with a bit more life in his voice. “And...please let me know how he fares?”

 

“Of course, Alexander.”

 

George walked to the hospital tent as quickly as he could. Benjamin Tallmadge was precious to him, and he had been hurt. Hurt on a mission for  _ him  _ that  _ nobody  _ was supposed to know about. How could this have happened? 

 

_ One thing at a time. Benjamin first, then find out who’s betrayed this army and give them hell. _

 

As he entered the hospital tent, he was stopped by a doctor.

 

“How is he?” George asked, desperate for news but trying to keep his voice steady.

 

“We’ve gotten the bullet out, Your Excellency, and he’s awake, but it would be best to keep your conversation short.”

 

“Understood, thank you, doctor.”

 

“I have some other patients to tend to, but I’ll be back in a while to check on him.” With that, the doctor left, leaving George and Benjamin alone.

 

Benjamin was laying on a cot under a rough wool blanket. The blanket was tucked under his armpits, and he wore no shirt, only the bandages on his shoulder.

 

“Sir,” Ben groaned, moving to brush his sweat-damp hair away from his face.

 

And that’s when George saw it on his wrist, where sleeves would normally hide it. 

 

Ben’s soulmark.

 

A lily of purest blue, dripping gold from every petal.

It was a mark George knew well, because it was his own.

 

George struggled to collect his thoughts, to maintain a straight face despite the sudden influx of another’s emotions that came when your mind acknowledged it had found it’s match.

 

His mind was reeling. How should he tell him? Should he tell him at all when he was in this state? 

 

He collected himself enough for a question. “Major. Are you well?”

 

“I have been better, sir.” He said as he tried to sit up. “The letters I was bringing back...in the pocket of my jacket.”

 

“Work can wait, Major. You must recover.”

 

“This is  _ important _ , sir. I can work.”

 

“I won’t hear it, Major. Am I clear? You are to  _ heal _ .”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

He steeled himself. He would help nobody by hiding this.

 

“Your soulmark…”

 

“Oh, sir! I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize it was showing. Let me -”

 

“That is not what I meant.” George smiled gently and shoved his own sleeve up unceremoniously. “It matches mine.”

 

Ben could only stare at the mark on George’s wrist in confusion.

 

“What…? But...how, sir?”

 

“It seems to me that the only reason two marks match is because their owners are soulmates, Benjamin”

 

“Well, yes, but...I can’t quite believe it, sir. I’ve found my soulmate and it’s  _ you. _ ”

 

“I could say the same, my dear boy”

 

Ben flushed, and in a quiet voice asked “Where do we go from here, Your Excellency?”

 

George gently lifted Ben’s hand, gently brushing his lips against the mark.

 

“I would like to woo you properly, if you will let me.”

 

Ben’s eyes nearly rolled back into his head. Such an open and tender display, combined with the soft, gentle kiss to the sensitive soulmark, felt positively divine.

 

“And Benjamin? There is no longer any need to stand on such formality with me, unless you wish to?”

 

“I...of course. I admit I have never been...wooed...before.”

 

“Then I shall enjoy being the first to do so”


	2. Safe? Safe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben gets back to work (and the plot, she thickens).

 

It had been several weeks since Ben had been shot. The doctors had finally given him permission to be out and about. He still hadn’t been cleared for duty by George, though, so he was presently seated on a large rock a little ways from camp, lazily watching the trees and the sky. 

He wished he had something to  _ do _ . He could understand his General’s -his  _ soulmate’s _ \- concern for him (heaven knows Benjamin would hardly be able to restrain himself from standing watch all through the night if George were hurt), but boredom knows no reason. He could only stand so much poking and prodding from doctors, so much idle chatter with well-wishers, so many hours cloud-watching, before he went crazy with it.

Ben was so busy thinking about how miserable he was with nothing to do that he didn’t hear the crunching sound of booted footsteps on the fallen leaves. 

Not until he heard his soulmate say his name.

“George! I’m sorry, I was a little...lost, there, for a moment.”

“You looked so relaxed,” George said, “what were you thinking about?”

“Just wishing I had something to do”

“I might be able to help with that.”

“George? What do you mean?”

“Welcome back, Major.”

“You mean I can work?”

“I’ve talked to the doctors and they agreed. Light duty only, mind you.”

Ben threw his arms around George in a hug.

“Those letters I brought back. Nobody knew about them. They’re my first priority. The information they contain might be vital. I should - ”

“Go help me win this war, Benjamin.”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Benjamin…”

“Fine. Yes, George.”

Ben immediately ran off to his work.

 

* * *

 

The letters seemed fairly inconsequential. Begrudgingly, Ben was almost ready to admit there was nothing in them worth getting shot for. Until he read the last one. The recipient’s name caught his eyes instantly. 

Robert Rogers. 

He looked at the signature at the bottom of the page.

Benedict Arnold?

He had thought Arnold too honorable to stoop to consorting with mercenaries. Of course, he had also once thought him too honorable to turn coat. And in any case, Rogers was a peculiar sort of mercenary. 

Robert Rogers and Benedict Arnold, corresponding? What on God’s Earth could they be up to?

Ben supposed there was only one way to find out. He began reading.

 

_ Rogers, _

_ You may have heard of my recent decision to join the winning side in this war. _

_ What you perhaps might not know is that the reasons for my decision are far more personal than coin. Knowing you bear no goodwill toward either General Washington or the little porcelain doll he sees fit to call a spy, I’ve decided to write you with an offer. _

_ I know something about Washington and Tallmadge that will most definitely interest you - something I am reluctant to put to paper. And, if you’re interested, a job for you. Meet me at my home in Norwich. Or don’t.  _

_ Signed, _

_ Brigadier-General Benedict Arnold _

_ P.S - I have sent several copies of this letter to you, in the hope that Washington’s pretty doll won’t be able to intercept them all. _

 

Winning side? Porcelain doll? Ben was fuming by the time he read to the end. At least, he was, until he read the last paragraph again. Then, his red-hot anger was replaced with ice-cold dread. It had been 4 weeks already since he had intercepted this letter. 

Rogers would have gone, Ben knew, even despite the casual and disrespectful tone of the letter. Information about him and Washington would be impossible to pass up. Rogers may well have been on the way to meet with Arnold when he ambushed Ben. Damn his injury! He could have discovered this weeks ago. He  _ should  _ have discovered this weeks ago. George could be in danger - could have been in danger for weeks!  - and Ben hadn’t known. 

Ben quickly shoved the letter into the bag with the rest, then quickly made to leave. He had to tell George. 

As he made his way to George’s headquarters, he pondered how to tell him.  _ Sir, I have reason to believe you may be in danger.  _ Would George even listen to that?  _ George, I think you’re in danger.  _ Would that convey the gravity of the situation?

As it happened, there was no reason to be worried how George would take it. When he got there, he was immediately shown to his soulmate’s office. 

“George, I found something in those letters I told you about.”

“What did you find, dear boy?”

“Benedict Arnold has started a correspondence with Robert Rogers. And Arnold says he knows something about you and I. He wanted to set up a meeting with Arnold. And that letter is  _ weeks _ old by now. I’m...worried, sir. What if he knows…what if he knows we’re soulmates?”

“Damn! I know he’s seen my mark - last year, an accident, but..has he seen yours?”

“Maybe...I thought...once I thought he might have but it was quick and I wasn’t sure”

George muttered another curse under his breath, and then -

“You’re staying here with me, my darling boy. It will be safer for you, until this matter is dealt with.”

“I’ll be safer? I was...I was worried about you.” Ben admitted.

  
“Then we shall be safer together, my dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's chapter two, everyone! let me know what you think with a comment or on tumblr @historical_ramblings


	3. Not so safe, after all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot Happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3! this took longer than I thought but here goes.

So much had stayed the same since George had discovered his soulmate - in the world at large, at least. But for George, everything was different, starting with the connection to Ben that had grown in his mind. It was as though finding his soulmate and forming that bond with him had filled a void he didn’t even know existed. Ben’s mind was constant and warm, flooding his consciousness, and for George it was as though part of him were always enjoying the best of a perfect spring afternoon. He did not know what his mind felt like to Ben, but he hoped he brought his soulmate as much comfort as he brought George.

He hoped. God, he hoped. He hoped for Ben’s happiness as much as he hoped for a victory in the war. 

Which was a large part of why he had suggested Ben sleep in headquarters, with him. George wanted him safe. Protected and warm in George’s arms, snuggled up against his chest and drifting to sleep. 

But Ben had declined. 

It stung, but the reasons were sound. It wasn’t so unusual for two men to be soulmates, but any soulmate of George Washington’s would be at great risk, and that risk would only increase the more people knew of it. Of Ben. He would be safer in his own tent. 

“In this instance,” Ben had said, “discretion is indeed the better part of valor”.

George had caved. Ben’s safety was more important than him getting to hold his soulmate at night. It always would be.

So there George was, lying in his cold bed that felt much too big, wishing he had his Major to hold. Just as he had been for the past week. 

He sighed. The little warm glow at the back of his mind would have to be enough. He loved that glow with all his heart, because it was Ben, and he resented it because it was not.

But it was all he could have of Ben, at night, until Rogers was found.

But there was one thing he could do to ease his mind, and he had done it.

He had convinced Ben to agree to a rotating shift of guards, provided they were subtle about it. A pair of people who would pretend to be chatting fireside near Ben’s tent.

Hamilton was an obvious choice (seeing as George knew he’d be awake anyway), but he needed pairs to make this plan work.He eventually decided on Lafayette, Laurens, and Burr to join his best aide. They went in shifts. 

Tonight was Hamilton and Lafayette’s turn to stand watch.

Lafayette, in particular, considered it a great honor to be guarding the General’s soulmate. George thought it might be because he was maybe a little in love with the both of them himself (this too was not unheard of, many soulmates were simply meant to be very dear friends, and it wasn’t unusual for a person to marry someone who was not their soulmate, especially among the nobility and the wealthy). Laurens would play his part admirably, George knew, and it would be impossible to keep him away from anything involving Alexander anyway. Burr was a less obvious choice, but he needed someone in the group who understood the merits of discretion - not that the others didn’t, but Burr could keep a secret like no other.

George was so grateful that Ben had agreed to be guarded, and that he had found willing guards.

A strange, unpleasant sensation flickered at the edge of Ben’s little glow as he was tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. George had never felt anything like it from the bond before, and he sat up. Discretion being the better part of valor be damned, something was happening with Benjamin.

He was sitting up and stretching when he heard the door to headquarters open, followed swiftly by the thud-thud-thud of running feet.

Feet that ran right upstairs to his door, and whose owner began pounding on the door with all his might.

Hamilton’s voice rang out “I hope you’re awake, Sir, because this is important and I’m coming in.”

Moments later, the door crashed open.

“Oh, good, you  _ are  _ awake. Something’s happened, Sir. I’m sorry...my fault...I should have stopped it...took us by surprise…”

“Slow down, Alexander, breathe. Something’s happened to Benjamin?”

“I...yes, but how did you...the bond, of course.” He took several deep breaths.

“Brief me, Colonel.” George said, trying to remain calm. “This is not your fault, and I do not blame you or Lafayette. Ben has not come to much harm - the bond tells me this much. What you need to do now is breathe and tell me what occurred.”

“ _ Arnold _ occurred. He must have realized we were there to guard Benjamin. In any case, he snuck up behind Lafayette and I. We were fighting with him when…” he took a deep breath, “when Major General Lafayette ordered me to flee, sir, in order to report to you.” 

“In order to report  _ what _ ?” asked George.

“That Arnold is here and doubtless has gotten to Benjamin by now.”

“Very well. With me, Colonel. We shall find Lafayette and Benjamin.”

  
“Yes, Sir” Hamilton said, sounding relieved to have orders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that's that! stay tuned for more and yell at me on the comments or on tumblr @historical_ramblings


	4. From Bad to Worse to Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arnold's got ben and it's not good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's graphic violence and homophobic verbal abuse in this chapter. tread carefully.

“Put me down, you traitorous worm!” , Ben shouted as he pounded ineffectually at Arnold’s back with his fists as he was slung over the man’s shoulder.

“Be quiet and quit squirming, you little brat!” Arnold spat. “I’d hate to have to break Washington’s pretty new doll.”

Ben paled. Would Arnold really...?

“Hmph ”, Ben said, defiant as Arnold made for the treeline at the edge of camp, “ _ I’m  _ breakable? That’s like the kettle calling the grass black.”

“What,” Arnold demanded darkly, “are you implying, you  _ infuriating  _ little  _ whore _ ?”

“If you can’t figure that out for yourself, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

Arnold stopped abruptly, heaving Ben back over his shoulder and slamming his back against the trunk of a tree, sending shooting pain up Ben’s still-tender shoulder in the process. He didn’t notice himself whimper in pain, but Arnold must have, because with one hand, Arnold grabbed the shoulder and pinned him to the tree, while the other snuck up to tangle in his hair and yank his head back, forcing him to stare right at Arnold.  

“Oh this is  _ rich _ . Washington’s worthless bed warmer is trying to get under my skin.” A shiver went down Ben’s spine at Arnold’s slimy tone, and Arnold laughed.

“Awww, should I keep going, my dear little harlot? My precious little godless sodomite? Hmm?”

Ben felt a flare of his own pain and anguish echoed and reflected through his bond with George. 

_ Please, George. Please find me. And soon. _

He forced himself to blink away the tears in his eyes, but whether those tears were from the pain of being slammed and pinned against the tree or from the insults Arnold flung at him, he wasn’t sure.

“Anything to say, you sycophantic slut? You disgust me. Washington’s little  _ pet. _ ”

Ben clenched his jaw against the onslaught of insults.

“No? What about  _ now _ ?” demanded Arnold, digging his thumb in roughly to Ben’s tender shoulder.

Ben couldn’t help but let out a pathetic-sounding little whimper. The pain, the humiliation, that Arnold was inflicting, combined with the rage Ben could feel flowing through his bond with George as easily as the tears flowed from his eyes, were all conspiring to overwhelm him.

“Wh...why?” Ben muttered softly. He wasn’t even sure what he was asking. Why him? Why now? Why do this to him? It could be any or all of those questions.

Arnold smirked, “Why what, you soiled rag?”

Ben took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. He mustered all the strength in his voice that remained.

“Why you? I was expecting Robert Rogers. I didn’t think you had the stones to do your own dirty work.”

Arnold brought his knee hard into Ben’s groin. 

“ _ You little whore!, _ ” he hissed, and followed Ben down as he went limp, pinning him facedown to the ground by his shoulders. “You think you can  _ steal _ George and then  _ insult me _ ?!”

“ _ Steal George? _ ” Ben asked, incredulous. “He’s my soulmate! I never  _ stole him _ from anyone. Least of all you, you slimy walking serpent.”

Arnold practically snarled “I was going to keep you alive - you’d be a valuable prisoner. But now I’m not even going to wait long enough to see them put the noose around your neck.”

“What a coincidence, Benedict,” came George’s low, gravelly baritone from somewhere. “I don’t intend to wait to kill you either.”

Relief washed over Ben like sand on a beach. 

_ George! _

Ben twisted and turned, trying to get a glimpse of his soulmate. 

“George! George, oh, thank god!” Ben cried, practically sobbing, still not able to see.

Arnold punched Ben in his tender shoulder, hard. “Quiet, you little mewling slut”

Even through the pain, Ben heard the distinctive sound of a pistol being cocked.

_ George has a gun, thank god, George has a gun. _

But only moments later, Ben felt something cold and metal press against the back of his head, and then another click. He felt the blood drain from his face.

He froze, stiff as a board.

_ Arnold has a gun. _

“Arnold” George hissed, “if you pull that trigger I swear you’ll not live to see another sunrise.”

“But I thought you...I...we…we could have been something.”

“It never would have worked. Leave now or die, Arnold. Those are your only options.”

Arnold slowly stood up, and Ben scrambled to his feet and rushed over to George.

“Never would have worked?” Arnold asked, suddenly quiet, “We could have been great, George, you just can’t see it. You never could.”

“ _ Never  _ use my first name again. You’ve lost that right.” George said, not loudly but with the kind of force that will not be ignored or disobeyed.

Arnold turned on his heel to face George, his face red with rage.

“ You’re a blind fool! To think I ever _ - _  ! ” 

And then Arnold loosed the most horrible sound Ben had ever heard. He sounded like a skunk smells, like a rabid wolf, like a banshee, like a man insane as he charged at George and Ben.

And then there was a single shot from George’s pistol, and Arnold went down, clutching his leg and writhing in pain.

“Come, Benjamin. You need a doctor. Lafayette and Alexander should already be waiting with one in headquarters.”

“You found Lafayette? I was so worried when I saw him just lying there...”

“He’s awake now, and in the best of hands, as you soon will be.”

Ben huddled closer to George, clutching at his jacket.

“Let’s leave this place. The sooner, the better.”

“I couldn’t agree more”

Ben reluctantly released George’s jacket in order to walk, only to be almost immediately brought back into a tearful hug by George.

“Can you walk?”

“I...think so…?”

“You sound unsure, dear. May I carry you?”

Ben nodded yes, and was promptly scooped up by his soulmate.

  
“Time to bring you home, Benjamin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will be happy, i promise!
> 
> hmu on tumblr @historical_ramblings or in the comments to yell at me


	5. Home and hearth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grand finale! Sorry this took so freaking long. I had many things happen in my life basically all at once.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

**** Ben was only too glad to be carried by his soulmate. He could already feel the bruises forming all along his back and shoulder, and his scalp ached from being yanked back by Arnold. He wasn’t even sure he’d be able to walk just yet anyway. His entire body was still reeling from Arnold’s brutal knee between his legs.

He was sure he looked a mess. Red, puffy eyes with tear trails all down his face, curled up and clinging desperately to George. Surely he looked awful. A worthless little whore, crying because of a little pain and a few insults. 

Pathetic. His soulmate was  _ George Washington.  _ The Commander-in-Chief of the  _ entire continental army. _ George deserved someone braver, someone stronger, someone smarter. Someone who wouldn’t need to be carried around the fringes of camp, who wouldn’t crumple his shirt, who wouldn’t soak his jacket with tears. Someone better than Ben.

George stopped for a moment, and Ben realized where they were. Headquarters. 

George tried to jostle Ben as little as possible as he opened the door, but there was only so much he could do, and Ben couldn’t help but wince. 

He carefully eased Ben through the door, and Ben heard the faint sounds of conversation from another room. Ben was carefully carried upstairs to the bedroom Ben knew to be George's and gently deposited on the soft bed. George's first order of business was to get Ben out of his uniform and into bed, where he could heal properly. He managed to coax Ben into letting him help get him undressed and changed. 

Ben fell asleep shortly thereafter, and George couldn't blame him. What he felt from the bond consisted of pain and exhaustion, and it disturbed him to his very core. His Major, his soulmate, was in pain, and he couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t stop it. 

He was just getting him under the covers when he heard a knock. After tucking Ben in as carefully as possible, George went to open the bedroom door. Hamilton was on the other side, wringing his hands.

“...I heard you come in. How's he doing?”

“I...I don’t know.” George admitted. “He hasn't said much, but all I can feel from the bond is pain, and I...I don't know...I don’t know how to help him, Alexander.”

“You have done all you can, sir.”

George sighed deeply.

“How is the Marquis?”

“He’s been asking after you and Benjamin since he woke. The injuries he received were fairly minimal, considering…” Alexander trailed off, directing his gaze at his shoes, at the floor, anywhere but his General’s face.

“Considering what, Alexander?”

Alexander clenched his fists and set his jaw firmly.

“Considering I left him there alone like a damn coward, sir.”

“You followed orders, Alexander.”

“I should have stayed. Maybe if I had…”’

“Maybe if you had stayed, you would  _ both _ be downstairs, hurt - or worse. Maybe Arnold would be halfway to New York with Benjamin by now. Life cannot be lived in the shadow of ‘maybes’ and ‘what ifs’, Colonel. Because of you, Both the Marquis and Major Tallmadge are here, safe. That is what matters. Am I understood, Colonel?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Lafayette needs you right now, son. You can tell him I’ll be down to see him eventually. Right now, Benjamin needs me.”

“Of course, sir.”

“And Alexander? Get some rest.”

Hamilton looked stunned, then nodded, bowing out of the room. “Sir.”

As the sound of footsteps retreated down the stairs, George turned his attention to his soulmate once more.

 

* * *

 

 

It was dark when Ben woke. He ached from his scalp to his toenails. He could barely see a thing, but he tasted dirt and blood. 

As he came closer to full consciousness, he felt a warm hand on his own. 

He blinked slowly, eyes drifting up from the warm, calloused hand holding his up the strong, well-muscled arm, lingering a moment to admire the sculpted forearms and biceps under loose shirtsleeves, and then being drawn up to the broad chest and shoulders, and finally to the face of his beloved soulmate.

“G- ” he rasped, ruining the quiet. His rasping soon turned into a coughing fit, only settled when George brought him a cup of water from a pitcher on the nightstand.

“George,” he tried again, still hoarse from his crying and breathing in so much dust and dirt but able to at least speak. 

And his mouth didn’t taste of blood any longer.

“What is it, Benjamin?”

“George, come up here?” Ben asked, managing to hide his shyness with the help of his raspy voice.

“What do you need?”

“I need you to come here.”

“Whatever for? You should rest.”

Ben sat up, leaning against the pillows.

He paused a moment, then reached out with a gentle hand to brush a stray lock of hair from George’s face.

George leaned into the touch, unable to stop himself from accepting this small comfort from his soulmate who surely needed it more.

“Benjamin…”

“George…come here?”

Ben brought his hand down to settle on the back of George’s head.

“...Why? What do you need?”

Ben leaned in close, gently guiding George to do the same.

“I need to do this.”

Ben softly pressed his lips to George’s. George went shock still.

And then he was responding, moving to cup Benjamin’s face.

Their first kiss. 

George only wished it was under better circumstances.

They kissed like that for what seemed like hours, with George eventually joining Ben on the bed.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu on tumblr @historical_ramblings, or my personal, @madi_tumbles


End file.
